


221B Vignettes

by lokis_warrior_queen



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bees, Established Relationship, M/M, PTSD John, Questionable medical diagnoses, Sexting, Vignette, Wildly inaccurate medical facts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-07-18 17:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7324888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokis_warrior_queen/pseuds/lokis_warrior_queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a place for random ficlets and drabbles about the boys in 221B. Kudos and comments are always appreciated!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stay Away from WebMD

John, I need you. -SH

Sherlock, I'm working. Is something on fire?

I need medical attention. From a doctor, which you are, so please come home. -SH

What have you done? Are you injured? Are you bleeding? 

I need a medical examination and you are the only one qualified to provide it. -SH

What are your symptoms?

Pale skin, dark eye circles, and ennui. -SH

You need to sleep, you berk. I really do have patients to see today.

I think my prostate is enlarged but I can't tell for certain. I need your medical expertise. -SH

 _*picture received*_ Christ. Two fingers already?

It is progressing rapidly, John. -SH

I can't determine if the size is normal, I need your expert opinion. -SH

By the way, did you know that the glans has more nerve endings than a fingertip? I think for best diagnostic results the proper instrument should be utilized. -SH

I can't see patients like this. My cock won't stay in my trousers. 

I'll be home soon.

Take a cab. -SH


	2. Apis mellifera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finds a bee, and startles John.

John woke suddenly from his nap, old habits keeping his eyes closed and body still. He felt the presence of someone close to him along with something lightly touching his arm. The adrenaline brought him to full consciousness and he instinctively began assessing where he was and the state of his body.

“John, don’t move.” Sherlock’s voice finally snapped his eyes open and he realized that he was on the couch at Baker Street with Sherlock leaning over him.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” John whispered urgently, resisting the urge to move, to scan his surroundings for threats. He must have fallen asleep reading and he had no idea how long he had been asleep or what had happened during his impromptu nap. 

“There’s a bee on your arm, John. I didn’t want you to roll over and squash him before I could catch him. I’m going to release him in Mrs. Hudson’s garden.”

And with that, Sherlock swooped forward and gently caught the bee in one elegant, long-fingered hand. As John let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Sherlock rushed down the stairs and judging by the ruckus, took a shortcut to the garden through Mrs. Hudson’s flat.

John sat up on the sofa, dumping the book he had been reading from his chest onto the floor, and scrubbed his hand through his hair. He certainly wasn’t getting back to sleep after all that. Time for tea, then.

The kettle was almost ready to click over when Sherlock appeared again, smiling widely. 

“I set the bee down on the Narcissus and he collected a large amount of pollen before he took off, southwest I think, the hive must not be too far. I’m sure I can find it, there are ten likely locations in a half-kilometer radius, shouldn’t be too hard to narrow down...”

“Sherlock.” John tried to remain stern, he really did, but Sherlock in the midst of a bee discovery was more adorable than the puppy and kitten pictures the clinic receptionist printed and posted on the waiting room walls.

John had fond memories of a Sunday afternoon walk through Regent’s Park where Sherlock had spotted a swarm moving to a new location. Sherlock had followed - at a John-insisted upon safe distance - and talked a mile a minute as he watched the relocation. John had snogged him to within an inch of his life right there in the park, then reluctantly had taken his lover home to finish the job. The job being each other on every flat surface in their flat.

“Sherlock.” John began again. “You do realize that startling a war veteran awake is not the smartest thing to do? One of these days I am going to hurt you and we are both going to feel badly. Although I will refuse to apologise because it will be your fault, you berk.”

The berk in question stood gripping the back of the kitchen chair, his honeybee induced glow starting to fade as he looked chastened.

“John, I apologise, I...I got excited seeing the bee, you know we don’t have many here in London.” He paused and looked down, then at John earnestly. “You would never hurt me, John. I’ve calmed you during your nightmares many times, no matter how agitated you are you always settle when I say your name and touch your arm or your cheek.”

Sherlock moved suddenly then, dropping to his knees in front of John and burying himself in John’s lap. When he spoke, his voice was muffled by John’s shirt, his words rapid fire with no pause in-between.

“You don’t trust yourself, but I trust you John, you always keep me safe and I know even when you aren’t awake or yourself you try to shelter me and protect me, I will be more careful in the future, I don’t want you to doubt yourself...”

“Oh, Sherlock.” John stroked the dark curls in his lap, quieting his genius boyfriend.

They clung to each other in the quiet afternoon stillness, breathing becoming quiet and then faster again as nuzzling turned to caressing and then stroking. John took his honeybee to their bedroom and kissed and suckled his love into every inch of those long, pale limbs. Sherlock hummed his in return into every inch of his doctor’s golden frame - quite like a buzzing bee thoroughly harvesting the pollen from a small but sturdy golden flower.

John slept soundly that night, wrapped in the arms of his lover, who kissed him gently and stroked his cheek whenever he stirred. Sherlock watched his blogger sleep, cataloging the sweep of John’s eyelashes against his cheek and the differing tones and textures of John’s skin. 

Almost one third of a kilometer away from Baker Street, a hive tucked into the attic of a local buzzed gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The London Beekeepers Association http://www.lbka.org.uk/bees.html has lots of fascinating information about urban beekeeping, like what to do if you see a swarm of honeybees.


End file.
